


When We Allow the Unexpected to Happen

by MadamRoyale



Category: Swimming RPF
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRoyale/pseuds/MadamRoyale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MPREG. Michael finds out he's pregnant right before London. No one is happy, least of all Ryan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story was taken from a quote by Paulo Coelho, which reads in full "You have to take risks. We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen." I thought it was fitting.

Nerves. It’s just nerves. Stupid, ridiculous, fleeting nerves. Bob suggested it; his mom confirmed it and Michael accepted it.

The nerves were responsible for him spending the last few weeks before London heaving up a barely digested breakfast day in and day out. Come on, they just had to be.

After two straight weeks of puking, Michael began to think it was something else. Christ, he probably contracted a stomach bug or something. He knew all of those autograph sessions and clinics were a bad idea. He probably had fucking Ebola. Michael was convinced even with a positive diagnosis of Ebola; Bob would still make him swim.

Nine days before London, Michael found himself sitting in his doctor’s office, rattling off his symptoms. His doctor asked the normal questions pertaining to vomit color, recent health worries, and varied sexual escapades. Michael answered the best he could, except the sex questions. He lied straight through his teeth on that one, proclaiming chastity.

And by chastity, he meant getting fucked on every day that ended in a "Y" by Ryan Lochte.

The doctor drew some blood and prescribed an anti-nausea pill. He made the usual recommendations; plenty of fluids and rest, and promised to phone when the results came back.

Two days later while he packed, Michael received an almost panicked call from his doctor.

“You need to come in right away. There were…inconsistencies in your blood work.”

“Inconsistencies?”

“I will explain when you get here.”

Fuck. It was Ebola.

Michael had barely stepped foot in the doctor’s office when he was told he was being sent to Johns Hopkins via ambulance. The doctor promised to call his mother as a dazed Michael was being strapped to the gurney. Debbie always fretted over her youngest, so much so Michael tended to hide things from her. It was better this way. She didn’t need to worry herself anymore than she should. Now, it pained him to think about how she would react to this. Then he thought about Ryan. He spent the rest of the ambulance ride thinking about his lover’s smile. If he was dying, he better have an awesome last thought.

A team of specialists greeted Michael as he was rolled in. They repeated the original statement of inconsistencies in his blood. Michael grew inpatient; he just wanted to know what was going on with his body. He was examined from head to toe. It wasn’t until the apparent leader of the group, Dr. Pembry, pushed down on his stomach he realized how tender it was. He couldn’t help but notice her eyes widen at this admission.

Hospitals move at their own time, which can usually be measured using a sun dial. Michael was left to his own devices after the doctors cleared out. That was never a good thing. He had carelessly forgotten his cell phone in his car. Of all days, of course. It was during this time that the worry began to settle on Michael. Was he really that sick? This morning his thought process was all Olympic oriented. And now he was sitting in a hospital bed with the sound of a heart monitor as his only company.

His mother was eventually allowed into his room. Flocked by his two sisters, the three women engulfed Michael as he reassured them everything was fine and this was all for nothing.

“Maybe they discovered I really am part fish.” He said with a forced smile.

The room then filled with a shaky laughter. It was a bad joke, everyone knew it.

Finally, Dr. Pembry returned without the entourage of doctors. A nurse followed her wheeling in what looked to be an ultrasound machine. Can you spot Ebola with an ultrasound? Huh, medical technology. Michael knew he was listening, yet the words falling out of the doctor’s mouth made absolutely no sense. Words like “genetic mutation” and “female reproductive organs.” There was one word, however, that really made Michael confused.

Pregnant.

Apparently, from what he could gather, the good doctor was trying to convince Michael that he was pregnant. Yeah, pregnant. That’s when he started to laugh.

“Are you kidding me? Doc, I didn’t go to medical school but I know that men can’t get pregnant.”

“Mr. Phelps, I know this is news is shocking to say the least. But your blood tests confirm a pregnancy.”

She asked him to lift his gown before squirting a cold substance onto his stomach. Dr. Pembry glided the ultrasound wand slowly for a few moments before stopping. There. She was right. The doctor froze the picture and pointed out a small, oblong dot on the screen.

Holy Fuck, it’s a baby. He was carrying a baby.

His mother and his sisters starred at the screen with their respective mouths agape. The doctor continued on about some kind of medical nonsense but no one seemed to listen. This was not real. No, in reality, women have babies and men hunt for food or something. While Michael was lost in his own world of gender roles, Whitney interrupted Dr. Pembry’s long explanation.

“Excuse me. If Michael is pregnant than how…who is the father? I mean, Michael is the father and mother. But who is the father, father?”

All eyes turned to Michael who suddenly felt like he did when he was 15 years old and sported an erection in the middle of Physical Science, embarrassed and desperate for an interruption. His family had no idea that he and Ryan were way more than just friends. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what Ryan and he were. They chilled, ate, blazed and fucked like rabbits in heat. It was mutual and uncomplicated. It had been that way for a few years now. But Michael didn’t consider Ryan his boyfriend or something gay like that. That would be weird. Michael could feel all the blood rush to his face. Well, they were going to learn one way or another.

“It’s Ryan.”

Silence.

The next day, Michael signed himself out of the hospital. He was sure the media was bound to get wind of his hospitalization. That’s the last thing he needed at this moment. Dr. Pembry was not pleased with Michael’s decision.

“You need to understand, Mr. Phelps, you need medical attention, especially during this very delicate time. The first trimester in any pregnancy is the riskiest…”

“Look, I will deal with this whole…thing after the Olympics. Okay? There are doctors in London. If something happens, I’m sure they can handle it.”

Before the doctor could answer, Michael pushed past her and left the hospital. He had a plane to catch.


	2. Chapter 2

London was on a bender, indulging in being the center of the world’s attention. The past few years had been dank as the Thames itself. If it wasn’t a terrorist threat, it was a riot from the chronically disenfranchised that made people long for austerity talks. 2012 was proving to be a year of constant celebration for the beleaguered City. It started with Sweet Lizzie celebrating her 60th year on the Throne and now, London was hosting the Olympics. Sure, a solid percentage of London’s residents flocked to the Countryside to avoid the festivities. But those who stayed were determined to spend the next 16 days in a constant state of party. One temporary resident though was not feeling the loose atmosphere that settled across the land.

All Michael was feeling was nauseous. As he lay in the middle of his bed, legs curled up to his chest, he realized this nausea was for two reasons. One; because of the baby now growing inside of him and two; because he eventually had to tell the father of said baby it was growing inside of him. Michael had spent the entire plane trip over thinking about, well, everything. It wasn’t enough he had ridiculous ears and gangly arms. No, he also had to be born with a fucking uterus as well. One of the fragments he remembered from Dr. Pembry’s explanation was that his intestines were blocking the uterus, thus making detection virtually impossible. What made things even worse is that he probably would have spent his entire life without this knowledge. But he had to be whore around Ryan, now didn’t he? Michael was pretty sure he could pinpoint the night of the conception.

Eight Weeks Earlier

They were stuck in Tennessee; training, sleeping, training, sleeping, and training some more. This would be Michael’s last Olympics. Finally, the show was ending. He had decided to push the heavy thoughts off and was sitting on his semi-comfortable bed, scrolling through Twitter messages. Between the many offers of blow jobs from barely and not-so legal girls, Ryan came bouncing into their shared room. Michael moved his eyes from the screen of his iPhone and noticed Ryan smiling like a deviant. Christ.

“What God-awful thing did you this time, Doggy?”

Ryan flopped onto Michael’s bed belly first. He was getting into his 'so there I was' position to relay whatever craziness he caused.

“I overheard Missy bitching to Katie about her fucking hair, dude. How the 'chlorine was just wreaking havoc.'" Ryan said the last part in a fake falsetto voice to give the illusion of added girl drama.

“So, I gave her my special cleansing rinse. Told her it worked like a charm, which it fucking does. My hair is perfection.”

“Uh-huh. Didn’t you have to cut it because it was so damaged?”

“Um, no Mikey. I was upgrading my look. Peacocking for all the honeys.” He wagged his eyebrows in a suggestive yet ridiculous manner. The look ran straight toward Michael’s cock and settled there. He crossed his legs in hopes of containing the rapidly forming erection and concentrated on Ryan’s story.

“Anyways, I told her to wait 20 minutes before rinsing. Missy was all 'thank you, Ryan! You’re the best' Big hug and everything. What I didn’t tell her is what made the rinse so special.”

Oh no, Michael had a feeling he knew.

“You didn…”

“Green hair is a good look for Missy.”

“She’s just a kid! Reezy, not cool.”

“Fuck you, man. The dye comes out in, like, three washes. You should have seen her face! She was like the She-Hulk. It was awesome until she threw a shoe at me. I got the fuck out of there before she could get to the other one.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“Yeah, but it would be so boring around here if I wasn’t. Besides, I see that smile on your face, Mikey, you know it’s funny.”

Ryan was right, Michael thought it was hilarious. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow to see Missy, complete with emerald hair, throwing looks that would cause instant death to Ryan. Someone, most likely Cullen, would then make a passing remark about the Jolly Green Giant and all hell would break loose. Right in the middle, as always, would be Ryan, like a ringmaster. The idea of Ryan, King of Chaos, was again making him ache. Michael shifted uncomfortably on the bed once more in hopes a change in position would redirect the blood. It didn’t. Of course all of these movements were not going unnoticed to Ryan. It was his super power to recognize sexual distress.

“Are my exploits getting you hard, honey bear?”

“No, I just…can’t get comfortable.”

“Oh, so that explains the fucking boner you’ve been trying to hide. You know, we’re not on taper.”

“No, we’re not.” The words come out of Michael’s mouth in more of a whisper. It had been sometime since they fucked. So he put up no resistance when Ryan’s mouth captured his own in a long kiss. There would be no romance in this lay, no focusing on small areas of skin. This was going to be rough and debauched.

The way they both loved it.

Clothes were yanked off in a mad rush as their mouths made almost constant contact. As soon as he was naked, Ryan turned Michael onto his stomach. He reached into the nightstand’s drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. Ryan poured the cool substance onto his right hand, paying careful attention to his index and middle fingers. After a thick coating, Ryan placed a finger at the opening of the muscle. In a fluid motion, he pushed the digit forward and was rewarded with a pained cry from Michael.

After a few moments, another finger was added and another cry filled the room. Ryan loved this. He loved everything about it. The tightness surrounding his fingers, the way Michael squirmed like a desperate slut, all because of him. Ryan decided to add something a bit dark. A gesture that proved his utter dominance over America’s Golden Boy in the bedroom. He quickly pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. A muffled sound somehow escaped Michael’s throat. It seemed tortured and distraught. Ryan’s tongue probed deeper, swirling into the narrow passage. He made sure to go nowhere near Michael’s cock and firmly held down the other man’s hips to prevent any pleasurable friction against the bed.  
Michael was in both agony and ecstasy. He buried his burning face into the pillow which in turn absorbed all of the filthy things spewing from his mouth. When Ryan was in charge, Michael could literally not say no. Everything in Michael’s life was controlled; his swimming, his persona, even his perfect answers to the media. It was necessary for him to relish in this control. But when he was like this with his number one rival tongue deep in him, the control was happily given away.

After several long minutes, Ryan sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He roughly grabbed at Michael’s hip to turn him around. Michael’s face was deeply flushed. His pupils were wide and mouth slightly ajar. Ryan gave his lover a half smile then pushed his heavy cock into him. Before Michael could really get accustomed to the new feeling, Ryan began fuck. Hard. He placed Michael’s stretched legs over his shoulders for better positioning. Ryan pushed forward one way and then another and finally, he heard it. That moan. The moan Michael makes when he hits the spot. Michael usually throws back his head, squeezes his eyes tight and cries out for God. This always makes Ryan smile.

“That’s it, fucking moan for me. Do you wanna come?” asks Ryan with a sadistic tone in his voice.

Michael can’t form actual words. He thinks he moves his head to indicate that yes, he would love to climax, but is really unsure. The lack of communication, however, displeases Ryan, Master and Commander. He lifts his hand and slaps Michael across the face. Michael’s eye widen as Ryan grabs onto his lower jaw.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yeah…yes, I wanna come.”

“Good boy”

As a reward for his obedience, Ryan starts to pump Michael’s cock in time with his own thrusts. With this added manipulation, Michael shudders and spills over Ryan’s hand and chest. After a few more strong pushes, Ryan pours himself into Michael’s body. He collapses as they both lay panting trying to refill their lungs. After that, training destroys any extra energy they may have. Soon, tapering begins and sex becomes the last thing on either swimmer’s mind.

Michael closed his eyes as the memories of that night come flooding back. If a baby was conceived under such, ahem, kinky conditions, would they be some kind of sex freak? Michael placed his hand gently over his stomach and added another thing to his worried list. The first thing on top of said list was whether to wait and tell Ryan before or after the games. With each passing hour, a new decision was made. At first, Michael wanted to wait until after Ryan competed. It was the fair thing to do. But what is something happened to Michael before that time? He had been warned by Dr. Pembry of his “delicate condition”. He let out a loud sigh and continued to stroke his stomach. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He was going to tell Ryan now.

Michael picked up his phone and dialed Ryan’s number. It was go time.

“Jeah?”

“Where are you?”

“My room. Why?”

“Is Cullen there?”

“Nah. He and Grievers are out doing something. Wanna chill?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a few.”

Michael got up from the bed and found his worn flip-flops. His nausea was immediately taken up a notch but he was sure this time it really was from nerves. Being the supreme god of the Olympics, Michael was granted his own room at the Village. Ryan made some comment about all one needed to do was win eight Gold members to earn that perk. It was half sarcasm, half jealously, Michael was sure. He took the elevator to the floor below and walked to Ryan’s door. A quick knock and he was greeted by the sight of Ryan, all loose basketball shorts and a Gators t-shirt. Michael walked into the room and sat on Ryan’s bed, which was covered in clothes and random pieces of jewelry.

“How’s the stomach? I heard Bob tell Gregg you’re still sick."

Bob. Oh, that was story for the ages. The look on Bob’s face at the hospital when the doctor (Michael couldn’t bring himself to do it) explained his condition was, for lack of a better word, priceless.

“Yeah, I feel like shit.”

“Don’t mean to be rude, bro, but you look it. More paler than your usual cracker ass.”

Ryan sat down next to Michael and placed his hand on Michael’s thigh.

“Seriously, if you puke in the pool when I’m in there. I will kick your ass.”

Ryan’s attempt at humor normally put a smile on Michael’s face. This, however, was no laughing matter. Michael stood up and found himself leaning up again the small desk across from Ryan’s bed.

“Ry, I have to tell you something. It’s really fucking weird and you have to let me explain everything. It’s about me being sick. So, like before I got here, I went to the doctor. He gave me this blood test but thought it was probably the flu. Well, the test came back with these fucked results.”

“Shit, Mikey. You don’t got cancer do you?” asked Ryan concerned.

“No, I don’t.”

“Lupus?”

“No...”

“That disease Marty McFly has?”

“What? No! Will you let me finish!? Save all of your questions for later. ‘Cause I know you’ll have a few.” Michael pushed a hand through his freshly shaven hair in a frustrated manner. He breathed in deeply and let it out.

“Okay. So, fucked test results. I had to go to the hospital and they did more tests. They, like, found out I have this genetic mutation. Um, something I didn’t ever know about. It’s...I have. Okay. Ryan, this is going to sound completely insane but I swear on everything Holy I am not lying. I’m pregnant and it’s yours.”

For one moment, Ryan just blinked at Michael. Then, he erupted into laughter.

“Mikey, you’re fucked in the head. You know that? Pregnant! When the hell did you think that one up?” Ryan was still laughing when Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. At the hospital, the doctor had printed out the sonogram picture of their bean-sized baby. Michael had placed the paper into his wallet, thinking he would need some kind of tangible proof. He unfolded the picture and began to wave it front of Ryan’s face.

“Shut the fuck up and look. It’s that dot thing. That’s the baby.”

With a huge smile still plastered across his face, Ryan took the paper. He had seen sonograms before from his respective sisters proudly showing them off. A small white circle of something was present over a background of black. Ryan was beginning to think that maybe Michael had snapped a bit. This was a long way to go for a joke, even by his standards.

“Um, Michael. This is starting to get creepy. Whose sonogram did you rip off?”

“Ryan, it’s really mine. Look at the upper right-hand corner.” Sure enough the name M. Phelps was listed. But it still didn’t prove anything. Michael began speaking again.

“This is what they know; I have a uterus and ovaries. This is what they don’t know, for some reason my body started to produce extra estrogen. It caused me to start to, like, ovulate. I’m eight weeks, apparently. Which, by my calculations, brings us back to the night at Training Camp. You can go ask Bob right now, he’s still trying to figure this whole thing out himself. I can also give you the number of the doctor who, well, diagnosed me. She’s legit, big time specialist at Johns Hopkins. If you still don’t believe me, ask my mom and sisters. They were in the room when I was told. You know my mom, Ryan; she would never go along with a prank like this.”

A dark realization began to fall over Ryan’s face. This, this could not be real. The entire situation was straight out of some bad science fiction movie, The Incredible Pregnant Man! See him lactate. Ryan shook the thought from his head and his eyes returned to the sonogram picture he was still clutching. If everything Michael said was true, and baring a completely lapse from sanity, Ryan was looking at his baby. Their baby.

Baby. Oh, God.

It has been seen time and time again that human beings in general do not act well around things they don’t understand. The brain can only comprehend so much information at once. Ryan Lochte was about to prove this logic very correct. Women had babies. Men don’t. Michael was certainly a man unless Ryan had hallucinated a penis, which he knew he had not. So many questions, so many feelings, and not the faintest idea how to process them all.

“Ryan, please say something. You’ve been quiet way too long.” Michael begged.

“I need time to think, Michael.”

“Alright. If you want to talk and, you know, ask questions and shit, I’ll be free all night.”

As Michael turned to leave the room, Ryan stood up and thrust his hand out containing the sonogram.

“Take this. It’s yours.”

“You can keep it if you want. They printed me out a few copies.”

“No, really. I don’t want it. I don’t want this at all.”

Michael got the striking suspicion that Ryan was no longer speaking about the sonogram. He grabbed the paper and refolded it. A sudden anger grew within Michael over the idea that this was Ryan’s first reaction. He wasn’t expecting him to drop to his knees and press kisses against his abdomen. But he wasn’t expecting an attitude of not my problem either.

“Papa is a rolling stone then?”

“Fuck off. I said I needed to think.”

“Think about the easiest way to get me out of your life? Classy, Ryan.”

“Dude, get out, seriously. I. Need. Time. To. Think. How is that code for anything else!?”

“You don’t want the picture.”

“It’s freaking me out! God, Mikey. I just can’t…like the logistics. Is it safe? I mean, have you thought about all of your options?”

“Oh you’re not suggesting…? Wow, ten points for sensitivity.”

“Don’t pretend to be all 'life begins at conception', man. That wasn’t your attitude a few years ago back in Michigan. Remember that cute swimmer? What was her name…Molly? Nice girl, very sweet.”

“Don’t, Ryan”

“When she told you she was knocked up, you said you’d give her a ride to the clinic and pay for anything she got done. Was her mind completely made up? Never seemed so to me. But what the fuck do I know about these things? I asked because huh, let’s see, YOU’RE A MAN. I don’t think your body was, like, designed, to handle a baby. And I didn’t see your name pulled from any races. But excuse me for having concerns.”

Ryan was now pacing around the room wildly. He was truly angry, a sight rarely seen. Michael wasn’t paying attention to him though. Ryan’s reminder of that situation he found himself back in college was replaying in Michael’s mind. He remembered Molly’s tear-stained face and his selfishness. He was young and very stupid. But Karma apparently didn’t take in those mitigating factors when dispensing its apt revenge. Michael turned around and headed toward the door. There was nothing left to say tonight. The initial worst was over and he would have to deal with each thing as it came along.

“Michael, do me a favor and don’t talk to me while we’re here.”

The sentence stung Michael right in the chest. It cut deep. All Michael could do was shake his head yes and exited the room. He made his way back to his solitary quarters and shut the door to the outside world. It was then and only then could he allow himself the small indulgence of sinking to the floor and cry. He leaned his head against the adjacent wall and bit down on a finger to stifle the searing tears. Unconsciously, his other hand found its way to his abdomen.

What the hell was he going to do?


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks can drag on when one of the most important people in your life is not speaking to you. Then again, any amount of time can seem like a prolonged agony. It doesn’t get easier when that silence stretches into another week and then another. But there was always a lingering hope anytime a phone rings that perhaps it’s him. A fantasy is formed of a stupid, easy conversation about nothing and everything. It’s just a fantasy though. By the third solid month of absolute silence, a realization is made - Michael is on his own.

Michael had no idea what a great actor Ryan was. Anytime a camera appeared on the pool deck during London, Ryan was all congratulatory hugs and smiles. He tweeted encouraging messages and beamed to the media of what a privilege it was to swim with Michael. Away from the cameras, however, it was a different scene. Ryan didn’t pay Michael any attention, a fact not lost on the rest of Team USA. Their relationship was an open secret. Cullen Jones basically summed up everyone’s feelings “as long as you two aren’t fucking in the pool, does it matter?”

After officially becoming the best, greatest, most amazing, Olympian ever, Michael left Londontown and returned home to Baltimore. Pre-pregnancy he had tons of media events scheduled. His agent Peter managed to get him off the hook for the majority of his bookings though. At that point in his career, he didn’t need a solid excuse sans for “His schedule is too full”. One of his first orders of business was to visit Dr. Pembry. Michael openly winced as he endured a severe lecture on his complete irresponsibility. She handed down edict after edict on pre-natal vitamin consumption, schedules for various tests, foods and activities to avoid/indulge. Dr. Pembry’s face softened as she reached into the pocket of her lab coat and handed Michael a business card.

“I will do everything in my power to make sure this pregnancy goes as seamless as possible. But there are other areas that need to be addressed. I highly suggest you make an appointment with Dr. Philips. He’s a therapist specializing in reproductive issues. He’s very good; I’ve recommended many of my patients to him in the past. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve spoken to him privately about your case. He’s expecting your call.”

Michael took the card and offered a weak smile in return. He normally wasn’t one for therapy. All Olympic athletes were required to meet with therapists during their training. Michael would lie straight through his teeth when pressed for intimate answers. But he decided to take the good doctor’s advice on this one.

“Michael, have you informed your partner?”

He let out a long sigh.

“Yeah. He didn’t take the news well. I…I don’t know if he’ll be around for all of this.”

“I’m sure he needs some time to process everything. Remember, you did yourself. Please, tell him to contact me if he has any concerns. I’ll be happy to meet with him.”

Dr. Pembry wasn’t that bad underneath it all.

It was apparent even before the games Ryan was going to be the Olympian du jour. He continued to wear that crown long after the holy flame of sport had been extinguished. Michael watched as Ryan stormed New York Fashion Week and various talk shows. He was all big smiles and perfectly tailored suits. The press published everything, from a supposed budding relationship with a beauty queen to racing a member of the British Royal Family (Michael actually yelled ‘Oh come the fuck on, Ry’ on that one). The slew of pictures from these events was the only contact Michael had with Ryan. Occasionally, Michael would send a random text message. It was nothing needy like “every nite i think about u”, more like “hey, call when u can.” The text messages always went unanswered.

One morning after getting out of the shower, Michael noticed something different. His body. He was walking around his bedroom naked, gathering clothes for the day, when he passed by the full length mirror in the corner. Michael stopped to stare at his normally flat stomach. There was a distinct roundness. He was 14 weeks along and this was normal, from what the baby book his mother was forcing him to read stated. With some hesitation, he began to gently rub his stomach. It was easy to deny, or not think about, when he still looked the same. But with the physical manifestations of pregnancy now fully visible, it really hit home. He was going to have a baby. The tears began prickle behind his eyes. Motherfucking hormones. Michael cried yesterday over an episode of Golden Girls, the one where Rose thought she might have AIDS. It was so beautiful how they all came together.

Things continued to progress. Michael limited his appearances but knew he had to occasionally show up at something. He thanked whatever God he believed in that his pregnancy was taking place during the Autumn months. This allowed a wardrobe of oversized hoodies and jackets to be exploited. Then there was the issue of how to explain, well, the sudden presence of a baby in his life. Michael and Peter began to brainstorm. The first idea was to find a woman, pay her to fake a pregnancy, go around to the usual suspects to claim complete devotion to Michael, and after the baby was born, just fade away. It was a simple plan but seemed rather seedy when the details were laid out. The second idea was to tell the truth or at least a modified version of it. Michael decided to adopt a baby, on his own. It would explain his disappearance from the public eye – he was preparing for incoming bundle of joy. Actually, Peter added the bundle part. Michael was still cringing over diaper changes and midnight feedings.

In his fifth month of pregnancy, Michael began to eat like he was back in training. Some days, he was so ravenous he literally couldn’t get enough food in his stomach. A few times a week, Michael would have dinner over his mother’s house. Debbie Phelps had been well aware of her son’s desires for both men and women, probably even before Michael fully understood his feelings. She never wanted any of her children to hide things from her. The pregnancy aside, Debbie still didn’t understand why Michael hid the true nature of his relationship with Ryan. In reality, Michael was never too sure of it himself. He did figure out sometime during his last visit to Gainsville he was in love with Ryan. The realization fully hit Michael after a marathon fuck session. Ryan was snoring away on Michael’s chest as he stared at the ceiling. It occurred to him he never wanted this moment to end, he never wanted to not have Ryan wrapped around him. It was terrifying.

Debbie was in official grandmother mode. She made heaping portions of pasta, mashed potatoes and her infamous lemon chicken. Michael would gorge while Debbie prattled on about her day. Between bites, she would sneak in questions about how Michael was feeling and his latest doctor’s appointments. It was during one of these dinners when Michael thought it best to inform his mother of something rather important.

“Hey mom, I have an ultrasound this Friday at 2. I know you’re still in school then but I wanted to see if you would come.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I can take a half day. I appreciate you asking me.”

“Well, it’s kind of big. Dr. Pembry said I could find out the sex of the baby.”

Debbie stopped eating. Uh-oh, pure mom happiness in 3-2-1…

“You want me to be there when you find out? Oh, Michael. I wouldn’t miss this for anything!”

She stood up and hugged him tightly, pressing kisses on his head. Michael hugged the best he could in his awkward sitting position.

The day before his ultrasound, Michael was sitting in a loose pair of shorts and playing Halo. This was his normal attire since he now had a full belly. The sound of the doorbell brought him out of the game. Finally, the two pizzas he ordered, both with extra anchovies, had arrived. He pulled on a newly ordered Michigan hoodie (size 3XL) and walked toward the door. Michael had been ordering so much pizza; he began to know the schedules of the delivery drivers. Since it was after 3, Zach was probably at the door. He liked Zach, funny kid, loved the Ravens. He swung the door open but it wasn’t Zach.

It was Ryan.

“Hey, Mikey”

Michael stood just staring at Ryan. After all this time, here he was. Ryan was clutching a duffle bag in one hand, obviously coming straight from the airport. Michael wasn’t feeling hospitable though.

He slammed the door in Ryan's face.

“Oh, come on Michael! Don’t be like this. I know, alright? I’m a dick.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

Ryan continued to plead for the door to be opened while Michael returned to his game. After a few minutes, he heard Ryan’s muffled voice addressing someone else.

“Hey Michael, I have your pizzas. Since I paid for them, and gave the delivery kid a nice tip, they’re mine now.”

“Fine, I can order more.”

“I’ll just buy those too.”

“You fucking hate anchovies.”

“I can pick ‘em off. I’m opening the box. Smells delicious. I’m taking a big bite…oh my God! So good, bro. Like an angel came in my mouth.”

Michael had enough. Ryan was not going to hold his pizzas hostage. In three long strides, he yanked open the front door to see Ryan sitting on his front step, chewing away.

“Get the fuck in. Now.”

Ryan walked in and placed the pizza boxes on the coffee table. Michael flopped on the edge of the leather sectional and began to eat. Ryan took a seat toward the middle of the large couch and watched. Finally, Michael broke the uneasy silence.

“Your phone broken, Lochte? ‘Cause I sure as shit didn’t get a call saying you’d be here.”

“I was supposed to be in New York for something. I decided to come here instead. It was last minute. Erika’s gonna kill me. But, we need to talk.”

“I’ll say. Since it took you three months to fucking think.”

“I’m ignoring your sarcasm. Michael, um, is…is it alright?”

“Is what alright?”

“You know, the..baby.”

“Do you actually care? Or are you asking to seem like you care?”

Ryan let out a long, frustrated sigh. He placed his elbows in his knees and his head in his hands. On the entire flight from Florida to Baltimore, he knew this would not be an easy conversation. Michael was a stubborn fuck. It’s what made him such a brilliant swimmer. It also made him insufferable at times. But Ryan was concerned. Alright, a lot more than concerned. It actually did take him three months to wrap his mind around the whole thing. On the outside, he was enjoying his new title as King of the Pool. But on those lonely nights locked away in another luxury hotel suite, all he did was think about Michael and impending fatherhood. Ryan both feared and welcomed becoming a dad. He knew it was not a role to be taken lightly. But besides the normal anxiety, there was the not-so-simple issue of Michael carrying this baby. Ryan couldn’t begin to fathom all of the dangers. A few times he had let his mind wonder to dark thoughts, of losing one or both. His chest would go tight when he allowed those thoughts to run wild.

"Michael, would you just stop? You're allowed to be upset. But can you just for one, fucking second put yourself in my shoes? What if I came to you and said 'hey guess what? I'm pregnant with a baby 'cause of some disease', I'm willing to bet my house you'd react the same way I did."

"It's not a disease, it's a genetic mutation..."

"Whatever it is! It's not the sort of news someone can prepare for. So, I'm gonna ask again. How is the baby?"

Michael placed the half eaten slice of pizza into the box. It wasn't like Michael hadn't placed himself in Ryan's position. He understood the absolute insanity of the situation. But Michael was still the victim here. He was forced to accept it while Ryan got to gradually, and on his terms, come around.

"The baby is fine. Growing well. I'm fine too, thanks for asking by the way."

"Still ignoring the sarcasm."

At that moment, Michael didn't want to look at Ryan. He got up from the couch as quickly as possible. While Michael went for a pizza box (he wasn't about to sacrifice his appetite), part of his hoodie had ridden up, exposing some of his belly.

"Whoa. You're showing, Mikey."

Michael was about to say something spiteful until he saw the look on Ryan's face. It was a mixture of awe and surprise. He remembered all of those times he wanted Ryan to be there. And although he pretty much hated the asshole, part of him was glad to be near him again.

"Look, how long are you planning on staying?"

"Dunno. A few days. Like I said, I know we have a lot to talk about."

"Tomorrow afternoon I have an ultrasound. You can come, if you want. My mom's gonna be there. I'll have to warn her though. She's not a violent woman but she may try and, like, hit you with her car."

"Thanks, I would like to be there. And come on, man. Your mom loves me."

"Dude, you knocked up her son and abandoned him."

"I did not abandon you! I'm sitting here, on your shitty couch. And as long as your mom doesn't force me up a church aisle with a shotgun, I'm sure we'll manage."

"I love that couch."

"Actually, that was kinda low. This is an awesome couch."

Ryan, thankfully, slept away most of the morning. Michael was sure it due to the exhaustion of being a professional party-goer. Okay, he had to stop thinking about things like that. For the sake of what, neither of them knew. Ryan's extended slumber gave Michael the chance to call his mother and prepare her. That conversation was the definition of painful but she would still be present. He also made an emergency appointment with Dr. Philips for the next day. Dr. Philips was actually a decent therapist. Michael thought it would be best for he and Ryan to work this out with a third party present. It was such an adult thing to do. Five months pregnant and he was already becoming his mother. And the hits just kept on coming.

After a lunch of sandwiches (one for Ryan, several for Michael), the two drove to the hospital. They were met outside by Debbie who cordially greeted Ryan with a firm head nod. It was Debbie's equivalent of extending her middle finger. After a short wait, they were ushered into a small examine room. Dr. Pembry entered soon after, taken back by the newest member of Michael's entourage.

"Doctor, this is Ryan. My part...the baby's father."

"Lana Pembry, pleasure to meet you, Ryan."

Ryan shook her hand and smiled. He decided to question his change in status at a later time.

Dr. Pembry went on with the examination. After inquiring about any new changes, she had Michael lean back and lift his shirt. Upon dimming the lights, Dr. Pembry turned on the ultrasound machine and proceeded to whisk the wand over the slope of Michael's stomach. As she did, the tiny bean sized thing that had once been there was now replaced with definable baby. Everyone's eyes were mesmerized by the image on the screen. Dr. Pembry examined the fetus for abnormalities. Debbie tried to hold back the tears over seeing her third grandchild for the first time. All Ryan could do was reach for Michael's hand and clutch hard. And Michael? He squeezed back.

"It looks like everything is progressing normally. Fetus size is normal, as well as head size and shape. You have a very healthy baby."

Michael let out a shaky laugh. The baby was healthy. The baby was healthy.

"Would you like to know the sex?"

"Yeah...yes I would."

"It looks like you're having a little girl. Congratulations."

A girl? A girl. Of course, he and Ryan would be having a girl. The universe was just fucking with him for fun at this point. It was ironic that two guys who slutted their way through college would be now be the fathers of a baby girl. Michael hoped that one day they perfected time travel just so he could have a serious conversation with his younger self.

Michael felt the hand that was still wrapped around Ryan's being lifted. He turned his head to see Ryan place a soft kiss on the back of it. Suddenly, Michael's hatred for Ryan dropped by 30%. Oh, who was he kidding, it was more like 35%.

"She's going to have the best shoes, Mike. Suri Cruise will have nothing over our daughter."


	4. Chapter 4

Michael and Ryan sat in silence waiting for Dr. Phillips. It was a little before 9 o’clock in the morning and the excitement from the day before had worn off. Both knew things were about to be said that could never be unsaid. The thought was brutal but almost necessary in order for things to progress to where they needed to be. After all, it wasn’t about the two of them anymore.

The office door opened and Dr. Phillips ushered them into his small office. The psychologist was easily in his early 50’s if the graying beard and matching hair was any indication. Before sitting in a well-used leather chair, Dr. Phillips introduced himself to Ryan who, in turn, shook the doctor’s hand with great trepidation. Ryan was pretty floored when Michael had suggested this. Both of them had never treated therapy with any seriousness. On one occasion at the Olympic training facility, Ryan had proclaimed he would invent some wild childhood trauma just to “spice things up”. Michael had believed he was crazy enough to do it. Somehow word got back to Coach Troy and after a rare, yet stern, lecture; Ryan decided to forgo the plan.

“Thanks for seeing us on such short notice.” Michael began after carefully lowering himself into a chair opposite Dr. Phillips.

“Of course. I’m glad you called and decided to come in. Before we begin, how did the ultrasound go?”

“Great. The baby’s healthy.”

“Excellent to hear. I know we have discussed your worries about the baby’s health.”  
Ryan’s ear perked up. He remembered those nights he’d spent staring at a random ceiling with a constant prayer on his lips. _Please God, let it be okay._ It gave him an odd comfort that Michael had been experiencing the same fears as him.

“Ryan, I think it would be best if we start with you. Let’s talk about why you decided to come to Baltimore.”

“Um, I wanted to see Michael?” An eerie sense of déjà vu suddenly washed over Ryan as he began to feel like he was back in high school and Dr. Phillips was asking him to explain the Magna Carta.

“Besides that. Why did you decide to come now and not earlier?”

Oh. He was just going for the Full Monty then with the questions, huh? Already showing signs of distress, Ryan shifted in his suddenly too-small chair. Michael turned his head and gave Ryan an intense stare. He was all ears for this answer.

“I needed time to think about everything. I also have been really busy lately. I wanted to come sooner but my schedule was tight.”

“I didn’t know asking Dwayne Wade about clothes was so time consuming.”

“Dude, stop acting like I didn’t ask you to prom. I said this before and I’ll say it again. I’m the dick in this situation. I know I stayed away too long and I know how shitty that makes me. I shouldn’t have fucking shut you out, man. But I…I didn’t know how to deal. Ya know? Like, doc, I thought he was playing some kind of joke on me.”

“Yes, Michael told me the story.”

“I thought he lost his mind, like the pressure finally got to him. Until I talked to Bob and…”

“Wait, when did you talk to Bob?” asked Michael

“After you left my room.”

__

All Ryan could do was stare at the door. He had been standing there for over ten minutes contemplating whether or not to knock. How the fuck was he even going to begin this conversation? Ryan and Bob had a decent relationship as in they both respected each other. But besides swimming and Michael, they didn’t have much to speak about. After convincing himself what Michael said had not been a figment of his imagination, Ryan decided to seek out Bob.

Bob Bowman would never aid Michael in a joke this twisted especially during the Olympics. That would imply that Bob had a sense of humor. For the sake of Michael’s mental health, Ryan summoned some of that moxy he was known to have and knocked on the door.

“Ryan? This is surprise. Is there something wrong?”

“Hey Bob. Gotta minute?”

Bob motioned for Ryan to enter his room with a nod of his head. Ryan shuffled forward, hands buried deep within his pockets. He stood awkwardly in the middle of Bob's room, ignoring the desk covered with papers, filled with various numbers. Bob was still reviewing times. And  
they said Michael had an obsession.

"So, what's up?"

Ryan stared intently at his feet hoping to the find the words. He didn't want to blurt out "I think you've finally pushed Michael beyond the breaking point with your fucking goal sheets." It was a start to the conversation but not the opening he was looking for.

"Well, um...Michael's been real sick lately. And he like came to my room to, uh, talk about it."

"Uh-huh"

"He said some weird stuff. Like, really weird. And I'm worried about him, like maybe he's not handling things that great this time."

Bob's face was slate. He stood there for several long seconds looking at Ryan before choosing his words carefully.

"What exactly did Michael tell you?"

"He..oh. Well...uh, I think I heard, Mike say something that he was, like..."

"Stop."

Bob sat on the edge of the hotel bed. His face contorted from unreadable to tired. Very tired. In that moment, Ryan knew it was true. Like seriously, undeniably, true.

"He really is then?" asked Ryan barely above a whisper.

All Bob could was shake his head. He leaned his head on hands, his two thumbs tucked under his face while the rest of his fingers were folded. Bob seemed to signal the conversation was over. Sensing this, Ryan decided to see himself out of the room.

"It's yours isn't it?" Bob asked, still looking straight ahead.

Ryan stopped but did not turn around. He assumed Michael would have mentioned this small tidbit of information. Maybe his family knew but Bob was clearly in the dark. Or perhaps he just needed to hear it from the source himself. Almost like how Ryan knew deep down that Michael was clearly telling the truth but still sought Bob out. Ryan let out a low sigh.

"Yeah"

Michael was quiet in the way he became when things started to click in place. It explained how Bob just knew about Ryan. Michael had assumed his mother clued in his former coach.

"Ryan, I want to go back to something you mentioned. Bob asked if you were the father. From what I gathered, you and Michael have been together for several years. Why would he ask that?"

This guy was good. He came at you like a supportive father-figure but his questions slapped you across the face, leaving a person dazed and slightly bruised.

"We kept things private, Doctor" interrupted Michael.

"I believe that question was addressed toward me, Michael. You see, Doctor, _Michael_ kept things private. He never liked to "define" (Ryan used air quotes to better emphasize his point) what _we_ were. I mean, yeah, it started off with us fooling around. But things grew between us. He'll never admit that. Not in this office, not anywhere."

"I love how you're putting fucking words in my mouth, dude. I knew exactly what we were."

"What were we then? Besides something you never told your mom and sisters about."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black. Where was the big Lochte family dinner when we announced we were together?"

"My parents know, dude! So you can suck my balls on that one!"

"Okay, gentlemen. Let's stop and take a breath. We're not going to accomplish anything today if this becomes a screaming contest. Ryan, you said Michael never defined your relationship yet I believe you understand you have clearly been in one. Would you agree with this?"

Both shake their heads. It only took a therapist to get them to admit they were, in fact, together together. Parenthood was going to be great.

"Alright, progress. Michael why didn't you tell your family about you and Ryan? Did you feel they wouldn't accept you?"

"No, my mom isn't like that, either are my sisters. They've met girls and guys I've been involved with before."

"Then why not Ryan?"

Michael wasn't prepared to go here today. This whole session was about hearing all the lame excuses Ryan was going to make to somehow pardon his absence.

"I don't know."

"Yes you do"

“This is not about me today.”

“Michael…”

"What am I supposed to say? Huh? Tell me what you think I should say, doc!"

"The truth. Tell Ryan the truth."

Michael's anger began to fade. A wave of unbridled emotion started to crash into him. It was just so hard for him to admit he was in love with Ryan. Admitting it would be make it real and Michael didn't do emotions very well. Maybe it was due to a lifetime to feeling he was  
never enough. Not enough for the kids at school to treat him properly, certainly not enough for his own father to stay instead of seeking a new family. A new Michael-free family. Did every fucked up thing about his life have to relate back to his father?

The tears began to stream down Michael's face. He was ashamed at what limited control he had anymore over himself. The sudden change in emotion was not approved by the baby as he felt a swift kick. She was moving around more and, Michael noticed, became fussy when he became emotional. Slowly, he rubbed his stomach up and down, hoping to soothe both him and the baby by the motion. Michael’s watery eyes looked up and caught Ryan’s confused face. Oh, fuck it.

“I didn’t tell my family because then this would be real and I would have to admit I’m fucking in love with you. You’re the only person, besides my mom and, like sisters, and possibly Bob in a weird, fucked up way, I’ve only loved. And it was scary for me to even realize it. Then this whole thing happened and when I needed you the most, you fucking took off. I didn’t think you’d ever come back. Why would you? I mean, it’s me, right? It’s always me.”

Ryan was at a loss. It was the most vulnerable he’d ever seen Michael. There was a twisted beauty to it. All Ryan wanted to do grab Michael, wrap his arms around him, and stay like that for the foreseeable future. He knew he’d been wrong, that was never up for argument. But now, he felt disgusting. It never occurred to Ryan that leaving Michael in the dark for all those weeks would somehow trigger his deep-seated abandonment issues. In that moment, while Michael quietly sobbed next to him, Ryan knew he needed to firmly state his own position. He reached out and placed his hand on Michael’s forearm.

“Michael, look at me. I am not your father, okay? It’s not you! I just freaked. And you are not your father. I know you haven’t said it but I know you. And I know you probably don’t think you’ll be much of a dad. Which is total bullshit, by the way. You’re gonna be awesome, and a total dork and she’ll love you so much. You’re right, when you needed me I wasn’t here. I can’t say I’m sorry enough. Man, I was scared out of my fucking mind. All of these awful, fucked up things kept going through my head, like stuff I don’t even want to say out loud. And you’re gonna laugh but I still don’t know if I’ll be a good dad. There are a million ways to fuck up a kid and I’m scared I’ll find each one of them. And with girls it’s like so easy to tell who had the shitty fathers…I mean, if she ends up on the pole, I know I failed. But, okay, I’m going off topic. I want to make this right and I want to be here. I want to raise this baby with you, even if you decide we can’t be together anymore. I’ll respect that. And I love you, I’ve always kinda have. I should have said it before but I dunno why I didn’t. That’s my truth.”

After the appointment, Ryan stayed another day before heading to New York after Erika threatened him with physical violence. Michael was not ready to issue any forgiveness yet. However, he wanted Ryan to be involved as much as he could with the pregnancy. It was decided at the appointment that Michael, Ryan and Dr. Phillips would continue with therapy sessions on a weekly basis, with Ryan participating via phone.

There was then the delicate issue of Ryan’s family. If Ryan suddenly came home with a baby, the notoriously close Lochte clan would certainly have questions. Ryan’s sister Megan lived in Maryland, not far from Michael. She would be hosting Thanksgiving dinner and everyone, except Ryan’s other sister Kristin who was scheduled to spend the holiday with her husband’s family, would be there. Before the trip, it was discussed and decided that a meeting would take place with Ryan, Michael, Dr. Phillips, Dr. Pembry and the Lochte family. Ryan was in charge of getting everyone to Johns Hopkins for said meeting.

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Ryan assembled his parents, Megan and two brothers, packed them into Megan’s mid-sized car pretending to be an SUV, and drove to the hospital. He informed his family something needed to be discussed and to keep an open mind. Between Devon inquiring if Ryan was finally getting that sex change he’s always wanted (he wanted to punch the smug brat) and his mother shooting him worried glances every three seconds, it was a quiet ride.

The meeting was filled with questions. A lot of questions.

Ike looked confused. Steve seemed like he was struggling to grasp that this was reality. Megan surprisingly took the news well. Devon and Brandon were completely silently, except when Devon asked if Michael “had a vagina too”. He earned a smack upside the head by Ryan for that remark. By the end though, the mission of informing the Lochtes about the baby had been complete.

After the meeting, Ryan had a private discussion with his parents. He informed them he and Michael were still working out the logistics of everything but this was his responsibility and he was taking it seriously. Ike, still dazed, decided to accept this as a “blessing”. Steve took the Ryan route and said he needed time to understand everything. He patted his oldest son’s shoulder, said I love you, and excused himself from the room. Ryan knew his father would probably not come around until after the baby was born. He would then fall in love with this grandchild, like he had done with his three previous ones. They would never discuss how grandbaby number four came into this world and Ryan was okay with all of that.

Completely drained by the day, Ryan needed some air. He borrowed Megan’s car and found himself pulling into Michael’s driveway. Apparently air meant Michael to his unconscious brain. Things weren’t as awkward as they had been a few weeks prior when Ryan showed up out of nowhere. But it wasn’t all gumdrops and unicorns either. Ryan knocked on Michael’s door and waited. Michael was getting bigger and it was taking him longer to get to places. After a few extra moments, the door swung open and Michael let Ryan in without a word.

“I ordered Chinese, want some?”

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

Ryan followed Michael to the kitchen and sat at the table that was covered in various food items. Michael handed him a plate with some silver wear and went to the refrigerator.

“Sorry, man. I don’t have any beer or soda. I do have iced tea though.”

“That’s fine. I can understand the beer but no soda? Is it because of the sugar?”

“Nah, it’s the caffeine. Actually, this is decaffeinated iced tea. Tastes pretty much the same, so I think I may stick with it after the baby gets here.”

Michael handed Ryan the glass and sat next to him. He proceeded to dump a large quantity of shrimp lo-mein onto his plate and continued to speak.

“You should see all the shit I’m not allowed to have. Sushi, soft cheeses, fucking deli meat. Like if I want a turkey sandwich, I have to heat it up until it’s steaming, the turkey that is. I gotta take all of these vitamins, too. And you’ve seen how fucking emotional I get. This gives me a new found respect for women. I remember when Whit was pregnant with Taylor and she had some epic mood swings. I knew it was all hormonal and shit but like I didn’t get it. I just thought she was doing it for attention to be honest. But now, I get it.”

Michael shoveled a large, fork-full of lo-mein into his mouth. He began his next sentence in between bites.

“How are your parents taking it?”

“Eh, good, I guess? My mom is just happy to be a grandmother again. My dad will come around. I think it’d be different if you and I were doing this with like a surrogate or adoption. You know? He’d be fine with it. But I know him, he’s old school.”

“Yeah, I get it. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what?”

“Before, at Dr. Phillips’ office, you said your parents knew about us. Like, I never asked about their reactions.”

“Well, my mom basically figured it out. We were pretty obvious, always touching and hugging. Especially after races. Dude, I’ve looked at some of those pictures. I don’t know how people didn’t suspect something. She just flat out asked me one day and I wasn’t gonna lie about it. I told my dad not long after. He really didn’t say much, just asked me if I was happy.”

“Were you? I mean, are you happy?”

“Yeah, I was and still am.”

Michael smiled. Before he could say anything further, a sharp jolt somewhere right of his belly button panged through his body.

“Ouch! Either she likes Chinese or hates it, I can’t tell.”

“Is she kicking?”

“That or throwing a baby rave. Here.”

Michael lifted up his shirt to show his extended belly. He took Ryan’s hand and placed it over the spot where the baby was moving around. Sure enough, Ryan felt a swift movement underneath his palm. A slow smile crept along Ryan’s face. He looked at Michael with wide eyes and Michael stared back at him. Ryan leaned forward and kissed him.

Michael kissed back.

After Thanksgiving, time slipped away like it always does during the Holidays. Any openings in Ryan’s schedule were spent hopping a plane to Baltimore to be with Michael. The two went to doctor’s appointments and argued about how the nursery would be decorated. They both decided to paint the walls pink. However, Michael wanted a light, fair shade of pink. Ryan wanted a deeper, bordering on something one would see in a bordello pink. In the end, Michael’s pink won out but Ryan was allowed to hang a crystal butterfly mobile he discovered in Pottery Barn. Ryan was even invited to Debbie’s house for dinner. It was her way of bestowing forgiveness. Ryan had been extra courteous. Christmas and New Years came and went.

In January, shortly after Michael hit 30 weeks, is when Ryan’s cell phone rang. He was in his strength trainer Matt’s garage doing some ungodly weight set when the familiar Lil Wayne song started to blast. Matt had a strict rule of turning cell phones off during training. Ryan was close with Matt and informed him of the baby. He left out the part where Michael was pregnant with her and instead used the word surrogate. Matt understood and allowed Ryan’s cell phone to remain on.

Ryan looked at the screen and saw it was Michael’s sister Hilary calling. His stomach dropped, he knew something wasn’t right.

“Hello?”

“Ryan, its Hilary. You need to get to Baltimore as soon as you can.”

“What’s going on?”

“Michael’s in the hospital. He’s in labor.”


	5. Chapter 5

"Michael…Michael, can you open your eyes?”

The voice sounds so – distant and unrecognizable. Michael isn’t sure where he is. Panic begins to fill his mind but he’s unable to process anything. He feels lethargic; limbs nothing more than dead weight. The only sensation he can feel is a dull pain ebbing from his lower abdomen and throat. He swallows and the muscles contract sorely. He manages to open his mouth and tries to speak but no words will come out. His mouth is completely dry.

Michael needs water and some answers, in that exact order. He decides to follow the mystery voice’s directive and pries a lid open. It closes right away upon being greeted by the overwhelming light. Michael tries again, this time with both eyes, and forces them to stay open. He takes in the images around him – white walls, blinking machines, an empty, blue chair and a small woman in purple scrubs standing next to his bed.

“Good job, Michael! Now let’s try and stay awake for a few minutes, okay? Are you in any pain?”

Michael nods slightly and slowly moves his arm to touch his throat. He tries once again to speak to indicate his strong desire for a glass of water but his vocal cords are still frozen. The nurse seems to understand what he’s trying to gesture.

“I’ll get you some water and ice chips. After that we’ll see about letting you have some juice. Also, I think Dr. Pembry should see you before we up your Morphine, just hang in there.”

Michael gives her a small smile and let’s his arm drop down to his stomach. His deflated stomach. The panic returns as he moves his hand lower only feel a layer of bandages. Scenes start to trickle into his mind: an ambulance, the frantic beeping of a monitor, him screaming in agony. The nurse busies herself with jotting down random numbers on his chart, unaware of his distress. Michael needs an answer now. He focused all of his energy and managed to blurt out one word.

“Baby?”

The nurse looked up. Her warm eyes filled with uncertainty. It was apparent she was instructed not to share anything baby-related to Michael until Dr. Pembry spoke to him. She let a low sigh upon the realization she couldn’t in good conscience leave Michael with no information.

“She’s in the NICU. It’s best if Dr. Pembry explains everything. I’ll call her and get your family. I know they’ve been anxious to see you.”

Relief descends upon Michael as the nurse quickly exits his room. From the initial look in her eyes, he feared the worst. There were giant lapses in time Michael still had no memory of. He decided to start from when he could remember; his last doctor’s appointment two days prior seemed like a natural beginning.

He was officially 30 weeks or, as he liked to think of it since the measurement by weeks still confused him, well into his seventh month. His stomach was huge and swollen with angry, red stretch marks crawling along either side. Michael’s back ached, as did his knees. He tried walking around as much as he could to stretch his worn joints. But movement was becoming increasingly difficult.

Dr. Pembry looked worried. Since the very beginning of this pregnancy, she had stressed how important it was to get Michael to 36 weeks. If he got to that golden week, a healthy baby was practically guaranteed. But, as it was said time and time again, Michael’s body was not designed to carry a baby. She issued a directive that had been mentioned before: bed rest. It had been explained to Michael that bed rest was kind of like an extreme taper. Since his laziness was still something of legend, the idea sounded both appealing yet boring.

It would not be feasible to complete his bed rest at home. He would need someone to care for him. His mother had her job, as did Hilary. Whitney was not a possibility because she had her own family to look after. And unless Michael wanted an Odd Couple situation, Bob Bowman was not even to be mentioned. A private, the word was emphasized, suite would be made available for Michael at the hospital. He was to check in the following Monday. This would give him and the rest of the Phelps family a few days to tie up any loose ends and make proper arrangements.

After his appointment, which Hilary drove him to since he was now too big to drive; he called Ryan to inform him of the latest developments. Anxiety crept into Ryan's voice, something so unusual he was unpracticed on how to properly hide it.

"I was gonna fly up on Saturday anyway. I'll stay a few extra days until you get settled."

"Ryan, what about training?"

"I can take a few days off. It's not like they are gonna fire me from swimming. With you retired, I'm the face of the sport, you know."

"Uh-huh. So I've heard."

"And what a fucking handsome face I should add."

"Careful now, you don't want to be too humble."

The banter helped both men relax and not think about all of "what if" questions that had seemingly consumed their lives.

Besides some mundane tasks like figuring out where the dogs would stay, his mother took Herman while Hilary got Stella, and making last minute cancellations regarding appearances with Peter, things were quiet. Michael still though couldn't remember what provoked a very emergency C-section. One image did keep appearing in his mind - him laying in the floor of bedroom, trying to reach for his cell phone.

A knock on the door pulled Michael back into the present. It was the same nurse as before, carrying a large, Styrofoam cup. She placed the cup on a wooden table next to his bed and reached for a controller.

"I'm just going to adjust your bed a little so you're sitting up."

A bed moved into a more vertical position. The movement put a new pressure on Michael's lower abdomen, causing him to wince as a sharper pain rang through the fresh incision. The nurse reached for the cup and placed the bendy straw toward Michael's mouth. Like a greedy child, he sucked down the icy cold water which began to douse his inflamed throat. The liquid satisfied his parch and lubricated his vocal cords. While he drank, the nurse spoke.

"I called Dr. Pembry and she'll be here shortly. Your family will be here too. They were waiting for one of your sisters; she was at the cafeteria getting coffee. It looks like you're going through water pretty fast. I'll get you some juice. We have orange, cranberry and apple, what's your poison?"

Michael stopped drinking and relaxed his head against the mattress. He felt a little more human now.

"Apple, please. Thank you."

The words easily fell out of his mouth now. The nurse placed the cup back on the table and walked out to get Michael his juice. As she exited, he could hear the sound of familiar voices coming closer. His mother was the first one to appear at the door. She rushed over to his side and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Michael didn't need to look at her face to know distress he had just put her through.

"Oh, Michael. It is so good to see you awake. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

"I'm alright, Mom. I'm a little sore but the nurse said they'll give me some extra Morphine after the Doctor gets here."

Hilary and Whitney followed their mother's lead and engulfed him with hugs and stray kisses. Each Phelps woman had a similar facial expression: relief mixed with trepidation. Before Michael could ask, Hilary jumped in.

"I called Ryan. He's on a plane as we speak."

Michael squeezed Hilary's hand as a way of saying thank you.

"Have you guys seen the bab..."

Another knock on the door and all four people craned their heads to see Dr. Pembry followed by Juice Nurse, who closed the door behind them.

"Michael, I'm glad to see you awake. How are you feeling? Lydia stated you mentioned some pain earlier."

Lydia must be Juice Nurse, Michael thought to himself.

"I'm feeling alright, I guess. Pretty dazed and yeah, I do have some pain. What's going on? When can I see the baby?"

Dr. Pembry sat on the edge of Michael's bed. It was borderline intimate to how professional she was.

"Do you remember anything from earlier in the day?"

"Not really. I remember, well, I remember me on the floor. And an ambulance. And there was pain. I can't remember the pain but I know it was there. I'm not making sense, am I?"

"You're doing just fine, Michael. You've been through a lot already.You were brought to the hospital in an ambulance after you called Hilary asking her for help. I was called immediately and by the time I saw you, the baby's heart rate was slowing down. We had to get her out and fast. You were given an emergency C-section, which I'm sure you picked up on. The baby is doing well with all things considering. She's in the NICU right now. One of my colleagues, Dr. Redding, will be coming by to speak to you. He specializes in premature births and is overseeing her care."

"You said she's doing well but you're not telling me something"

"Michael, she's very early. Her lungs haven't fully developed. The next 24 hours will be critical in her prognosis. I will be conferring with Dr. Redding through her stay but right now, we're going to have to wait and see."

Michael tried to blink back the tears but to no avail. Maybe if he had only gone on bed rest sooner. Or maybe he should have followed a healthier diet. Pizza every night didn't exactly scream balanced diet.

"Michael, there's more. During the C-section it became apparent as to why your labor seemed to come with such intensity. You experienced a uterine rupture. It's a rare event and is exactly what sounds are like; the inner wall of your uterus split apart. Luckily, yours was incomplete and we were able to get the baby out in time. However, in order to prevent you from hemorrhaging, we had to perform a full hysterectomy.”

“So, everything is, like, gone?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. The hysterectomy will also increase your recovery time. Your body has just been through quite a trauma. So you’ll be here for a bit.”

“When I can I see my daughter?”

It felt weird to Michael saying those words, my and daughter, in the same sentence. 

“As soon as you feel up to it. Right now, you need some rest. I’ll have Lydia set you up with a Morphine drip.”

Before leaving, Dr. Pembry gently placed a hand on Michael’s leg. 

“I understand I am not giving you all the news you hoped for. But I think we should focus on the fact you two are both here. Get some sleep. In a few weeks, you’ll be wishing for more of it.”

After some juice and an increase in Morphine, Michael fell into a dreamless sleep. He awoke with more ease than last time but without any notion of how long he’d been out. The room was dark, except for a dim light next to his bed. He turned his head toward the light and took in the sight of Ryan sleeping in the chair beside him. Michael smiled a bit. He always loved to watch Ryan sleep, which was not as creepy as it sounded. Ryan always looked so relaxed and peaceful. He liked to think all the bizarre drawings Ryan created came to life in his dreams. It provided Michael with a sense of ease to know Ryan was possibly dreaming of skateboarding on top of a giant mushroom while clouds shaped like Carter hung in the sky above. 

“Ryan.” Michael whispered but Ryan remained asleep

“Ryannnn.” Again, not even a stir.

“Ryan!” Michael yelled finally which awoke Ryan with a fright.

“Jeah? What…what’s going on. Oh hey, you’re awake. How ya feeling?”

“I just woke up. I’m okay, kinda feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. How long have you been here? Where are my mom and sisters?”

“A few hours? Maybe more. I sent Debbie and your sisters home and promised to call them if anything changed. I saw the baby and came by and you were passed out. I think you had a good reason from what I’ve heard.”

“You saw the baby? She is alright?”

“She’s beautiful, so fucking small, man. Like she could fit in one of my hands. They’re worried about her lungs, that’s what that one Doctor said. I couldn’t hold her because she’s stuck a plastic box. But I was allowed to touch her though. Mikey, I’m not kidding. As soon as I touched her arm, her eyes opened up. It’s like she knew I was, like, her dad.” 

Ryan reached over and grabbed his cell phone. He pulled himself up from the chair and bent over the plastic guard rail on Michael’s bed. Ryan placed the phone in front of Michael which displayed a picture of the baby. She was encased in a plastic incubator with a pink and white striped hat on top of her head. From the picture Michael could see just how small she was. 

“I can’t really tell who she looks like…”

“She’s…she’s perfect, Ryan. I want to meet her.”

Ryan nodded his head and placed the phone is Michael’s hand.

“I’ll get a nurse; see what I can find out.”

Ryan left the room as Michael scrolled through the various pictures Ryan had taken of their daughter. _Their daughter_ that was something else new he was going to have to learn to get used to. About ten minutes later, Ryan came back with a nurse trailing on his heels. She introduced herself as Beth and took Michael’s various signs and said she had arranged for Michael a late dinner. After he finished eating, she would see if a trip to the NICU could be taken. An attendant came in shortly after with a meal of chicken noodle soup, fruit cocktail, crackers, and more apple juice. Michael’s throat still ached from having been intubated from his surgery, so he was grateful for the warm soup. He didn’t remember the last time he’d eaten and downed the soup and crackers in record time. Ryan looked on both amused and astonished. Only Michael could devour a meal after having half of his internal organs removed. 

After he was finished, Michael and Ryan waited a short while for Beth to reappear. Ryan filled Michael in on his meetings with both Dr. Pembry and Dr. Redding, whom Michael had yet to meet. Apparently, Dr. Redding had stopped by his room during Michael’s extended nap. Ryan repeated the same information Dr. Pembry had delivered earlier to Michael. One encouraging sign was the baby was not on a respirator. She did need extra oxygen however. As the conversation continued, the nurse made an appearance pushing a wheelchair in front of her. 

“I spoke with the NICU night nurse and we agreed this would be a good time for a visit. We’re going to take this nice and slow, okay?”

Beth pushed the chair next to the bed, lowered the plastic guard rail and the bed so it was level to the chair. She removed the blanket covering Michae to help move his legs unimpeded. Slowly, she helped Michael pivot his body so he was facing the edge. Even with the extra pain meds, the entire process could only be described as grueling. Michael’s core muscles felt like they were going to rip apart. Anytime the pain was too much, Michael had to stop and regain his composure. Beth was patient and encouraging, allowing him to move at his pace. Finally, the bottom of Michael’s feet touched the floor and he was sitting up without the aid of the mattress. 

During this time, Ryan had gone into the attached bathroom and came out with a robe. Before Hilary had gone home, she stopped at Michael’s house and packed a bag of clothes. Michael was overjoyed when he saw the robe in Ryan’s hands as it would permit him to have some kind of modesty. Beth helped Michael slip the robe on, again a process slowed due to his limited range of motion. Michael was now ready to sit in the chair. Beth instructed Ryan to assist Michael on one side while she controlled the other. 

“Alright, on the count of three, Michael, you’ll stand up while Ryan and I hold each arm. Ready? One, two, three and stand.”

Michael did as he was told and wave of pain rolled through his body. His legs felt weak and he was rather light-headed. Beth and Ryan directed Michael to the wheelchair and carefully lowered him. He let out a long sigh once he was securely in the seat.

“That didn’t hurt at all, did it?”

Before Michael could answer the sarcastic comment Beth leveled with another one, the nurse moved to the back of the chair and began to push.

“Come on, let’s go meet your baby.”

Ryan followed behind as Beth weaved Michael through the hallway. The NICU was on the same floor as the maternity unit but in a more secluded section. They came to two closed, glass doors that had the words **Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit** stenciled on them. Beth flashed her badge over a small, gray box and the doors opened. She pushed Michael through the doorway and into the nursery. There were various plastic boxes, as Ryan put it, each containing a doll-like baby. Each incubator was decorated with stuffed animals and a sign with either blue or pink letters spelling out the baby’s name. 

A man appeared before them. He looked to be only a few years older than Michael. Sometimes Michael had to remind himself he was in his late twenties and therefore it was not out of the range of possibility when medical professionals were members of his own generation. 

“You must be Michael. I’m Jonah, the head night nurse of the NICU.” 

Michael offered him a small smile as way of an introduction. 

Jonah walked toward an incubator that lacked the bright colors of the ones around it. A sign above it read, in pink letters, Baby Phelps. It was apparent Michael and Ryan needed to think of a name rather soon. Jonah began to speak as Michael took in the sight before him.

“She’s doing well. She’s not on the respirator, which we’re very happy about. Her lungs aren’t developed as much as we like, so we’re pumping in extra oxygen and she’s responding well to it. She’s just over three pounds and is 16 inches long.”

Beth pushed Michael to the front of the incubator and locked the chair in place while Jonah lowered the front half of the plastic box. He reached for Michael’s hand and pumped a small amount of anti-bacterial sanitizer onto his palm. Michael rubbed the lotion over his hands as he gazed on the tiny form of his daughter. 

“You’re allowed to touch her for now. I’ll be here if you two need me.”

The nurses leave Ryan and Michael, not before Jonah puts a chair next to Michael for Ryan. Ryan sits down and gives a grateful smile to Jonah. 

Michael is too overwhelmed to notice. 

He just stares at the sleeping baby who in only seven months of existence has managed to completely change every aspect of his life. 

Michael lifts his hand and gently strokes her curled-up fist. Her skin feels so smooth and everything about the baby screams fragile. While part of him is desperate to hold her, another part is secretly relieved as he’s afraid she’ll shatter like glass. 

Something shiny off to the side grabs Michael’s attention. He reluctantly takes eyes away from the baby only to notice a silver chain and medallion hanging over one of the monitors attached to the incubator. After further inspection, Michael recognizes it. 

“Ryan, is that your Saint thingy?” 

“Yeah, that’s my Saint thingy. It’s my St. Christopher medal, dumbass.”

“Hey, watch it. Small ears.”

Ryan’s mother had given it to him years ago. Ryan always cherished it and would hang it in his locker room during meets. Every once and awhile, Michael would catch Ryan praying with it. Without being prompted, Ryan began to explain again to Michael its significance. 

“St. Christopher is the patron saint of athletes, that’s why my mom gave it to me. But I always felt protected when I had it. I’m not sure who the patron saint of sick babies is but St. Chris probably knows. So my thinking is he’ll spread the word and she’ll have two saints looking out for her.”

“I like that. But there’s a patron saint of athletes?”

“You know us Catholics; we have patron saints for everything.”

Michael returns his attention back to the baby who is still snoozing away. He begins to rub down her arm with the pad of his index finger. Ryan clears his throat and begins to speak.

“Mike, she needs a name.”

“I know. I saw all the other babies had names. I don’t want her to be like the odd baby out. There was one name I thought sounded pretty.”

“What?”

“Lily. I know a lot of girls have that name now but I think it sounds sweet. And this is gonna sound weird dude but my mom once mentioned that if I had been a girl, she was gonna name me Lily. So I thought it had some history.”

“I like Lily, you’re right it’s pretty.”

Michael swallowed, he was afraid to ask the next question but it had to be done.

“How about you? Any names you like?”

Internally Michael prepared to hear names like Amber, Destiny and Kayden with a K and a Y. 

“Actually, yes. Amelia. I always liked it. I think it sounds like a name that’s always appropriate. Like, I can’t imagine grandmother named Sierra.” 

Something clicked in Michael’s head. Well, two things clicked. One, the fact Ryan choose a normal, not trashy name, and two, just how perfect Amelia sounded. 

“I think I kind of love Amelia. It really fits.”

“Yeah? Well, let’s do the best of both worlds. How about Amelia Lily?”

“Amelia Lily it is.”

**One Year Later**

“Alright, are your eyes closed?”

“Reluctantly they are.”

“Dude, try and show a little excitement. This is for our daughter after all.”

“No, this is about you using our daughter to display your fashion choices. I’m still not over the leopard print dress with matching shoes outfit.”

“Whatever, she was the most stylish baby at my cousin’s wedding. Now shut up and open your eyes.”

Michael opened his eyes to see Ryan holding Amelia dressed in a light pink dress with four small bows in the middle of the upper half. A matching headband with pink flower adorned her dark blonde curls. Her large brown eyes grew wide with laughter as she clapped her chubby hands thinking Michael was playing peek-a-boo.

“Okay, I can admit when I’m wro…”

Before Michael could finish his sentence, he spotted Amelia’s footwear. He walked over and lifted the baby’s leg to get a closer look. He gazed upon a bright pink sneaker, covered in rhinestones with the Jeah written on the back of them. They were exact republics of Ryan’s infamous green sneakers except for the color. 

“Before you say anything. They’re awesome and look at the soles.”

Michael peered at the bottom of the foot he was holding which read _Lochte_. He moved around Ryan to see Amelia’s other foot which had _Phelps_ written on it. 

“Phelps on one foot and Lochte on the other. Straight up ballin’ Mikey.”

Even Michael had to admit the shoes were pretty amazing. He could allow Ryan to have a little fun with Amelia’s wardrobe as it had been a tough year for everyone. Amelia spent her first six weeks of life in the hospital. They were now celebrating her first birthday, a milestone that on some days seemed like pipe dream. She was recently given a clean bill of health with her development, both physical and mental, deemed normal. But she wasn’t out of the woods just yet. Both Michael and Ryan would have to monitor her carefully over the next few years to see if Amelia had a possible learning or development disorder. Michael tried not to think about it especially with his own ADHD history. 

Michael’s recovery had been protracted. He had spent two weeks in the hospital and several weeks recuperating at home. Ryan had suspended his training and moved in with Michael. When the baby came home, Michael was still not up to full strength. He also had great difficulty bending and lifting things – even a 5 pound baby. Ryan was responsible for the bulk of midnight feedings, diaper changes, and general baby care. In the beginning it was easier; Ike had come up to give aid as did Debbie. Their sisters also pitched in whenever possible. As Michael’s health improved, so did his role as active caregiver. But it was during those times when Ryan assumed primary responsibility, with no question or complaint, did any lingering resentment Michael had toward him fade away. He was truly there to be Amelia’s father. That’s all Michael really wanted. 

While Amelia continued to grow and Michael became his old self again, except for the considerable scar now present on his lower stomach. Decisions had to be made about the future. Michael had the luxury of being retired but Ryan was still going for the next Olympics. So when Ryan went back to Florida to resume his training, Michael and Amelia followed. The plan was to stay in Gainesville until the Olympics and then they would decide whether to stay in Florida, return to Maryland or find a new place to call home. Although Michael missed his family, he was sincerely enjoying his life in Florida. 

When Amelia was born, Michael and Ryan’s relationship issues as they were had been put on the back burner. They had more important things to focus on. But when things started to look better questions started to arise. This entire impossible situation had caused great strife but also gave them both Amelia. But it had also given them each other with complete honestly and openness. They loved one another and their daughter. Both knew if they were permitted to spend the rest of their lives together, it would be a life well spent. Michael and Ryan didn’t need a ceremony or public announcement to proclaim what they already knew – this was it. 

Now Michael stood in the kitchen with a glowing Ryan balancing their healthy daughter. The doorbell rang, indicating the first guests for Amelia’s first birthday party. Ryan volunteered to get the door as he passed the baby to Michael. Amelia looked up at Michael with those impossibly bright eyes, the same ones they both share, and let out a loud laugh, showing off her deep dimples. Michael leaned down to kiss her head and in this very moment one thing was clear – it was all worth it.


End file.
